Page 21 of Seeking Shadows

“You haven’t looked at me,” I whisper. “Not since I got here. Not since…”

His fingers press against my waist, silencing me without words.

“Don’t ruin this, Mia,” he murmurs near my ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Just… don’t.”

My chest tightens. He’s not talking about the dance. He’s talking about us. About whatever fragile thing still exists between us.

“Zane.” I test his name on my tongue. Finally, he looks at me.

I trail my fingers over his shirt, feeling the tension beneath. He stiffens, every touch pushing him closer to the edge.

“Do you hate me?” I ask.

His jaw locks. The answer doesn’t come fast. He just holds me, swaying in silence.

“If I hated you,” he says finally, voice rough, “I wouldn’t be here.”

My heart clenches.

Part of me wants to smile. Part of me wants to break.

Because I know what that means.

Despite the anger. Despite everything. Zane still belongs to me. And that does things to me—some good, some terrible.

“You’re good at this,” I murmur, impressed.

“I never said I couldn’t dance,” he replies.

A small smile plays on my lips. “That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you. You’re always so talented.”

Something in his eyes darkens. The moment shifts. His grip loosens. And then—

He lets go.

My body aches at the loss. My skin misses the heat of his touch.

“I need to go,” he mutters. He turns and disappears into the crowd before I can stop him.

I exhale sharply, then head for the balcony, desperate for air.

Maybe if I wish hard enough on a shooting star, I’ll wake up in a different life.

One where I’m not chained to the Cartel.

One where everyone I love isn’t doomed to suffer.

One where I don’t feel like a stranger in my own body.

One where breathing doesn’t feel wrong.

I grip the railing, trying to steady myself, when a voice sneers from behind me.

“I didn’t know they let whores from the brothel attend parties now.”

My stomach drops.

A man I don’t recognize stands there, leering. I wouldn’t recognize any of them. I was never conscious enough to.

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